


So You Think You Can... Whatever This Is

by Sarcophagus



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Boy bands must die, Dancing, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 04:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11821533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcophagus/pseuds/Sarcophagus
Summary: Vinnie likes dancing. Balthazar likes teaching. Things don't go entirely to plan, and that's okay.





	So You Think You Can... Whatever This Is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Apikale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apikale/gifts).



> Prompt by Apikale: Dancing to "Chop Away At My Heart".

"You can dance!"

Honestly. One minute Balthazar was working peacefully at his desk. The next moment his partner came at him like a train, waving a tablet in the air. "Dude, you can dance! Whyn't you tell me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever it is I don't believe it's relevant to my report," Balthazar said frostily.

The chill in the air failed to bother Vinnie. "I was looking up your middle name in the Bureau's records --"

"Why?"

Vinnie shrugged. "I figured if you choose to go by Balthazar your middle name's gotta be epic. Anyway, your file says you're an expert tutter. We can get funky together!" He drummed a few beats on the desk.

"What? Let me see that!" Balthazar snatched the tablet and scrutinized it. "Just as I thought. You misread a word due to dirt specks on your screen. If you must know it says 'expert tatter'." 

All time travelers had any amount of odd skill sets they'd acquired on the job. Lacework happened to be one of his. He braced himself for chaffing, but Vinnie just said, "Oh, okay," sounding disappointed. Balthazar found that he wanted to remedy that more than he wanted to finish his report.

"However, I know the valse russe." He waited for Vinnie's expression to change. It didn't. "That's a dance," he explained. "I could teach you."

He'd learned the valse russe in preparation for an assignment in France under Napoleon III that never came off. It was a romantic, yet dignified dance with few and precise rules.

Vinnie brightened at once. It felt strangely pleasant to have that effect on someone. "Let's do this."

"What, now?" But he quite liked imparting knowledge. And it wasn't every day that Vinnie asked to learn something. He didn't resist when his partner eagerly dragged him into the middle of the small room.

They faced each other. "Show me what you got," Vinnie said.

Balthazar perceived that he was still thinking in terms of street dance. "The valse russe is a waltz, Vincent, not a jamming occasion. Give me your hand." He placed his other hand on Vinnie's waist. Rather good core muscles there, for all that he never -- 

"Hey, how come you get to lead?"

Balthazar brought his attention back to the current task. "Because I'm teaching you. Now, the steps are quite simple. The idea is to inscribe a square with your feet. Follow my lead. One --"

He stepped forward. Vinnie did the same, with the result that they fetched up hard against each other and Balthazar got a noseful of curly hair.

Vinnie tilted his head to one side. "Nice bumping into you. Want to teach me how to make lace?"

"You're supposed to mirror me," Balthazar said testily, ignoring the taunts with practised ease. "When I step forward you step back and vice versa."

"I don't think that's how a mirror works..."

"Nevertheless we'll try to make it happen. One --"

This time Vinnie mimicked him properly. He counted the beats aloud, one-two-hold-three, and they slipped into the gentle rhythm together. When he felt certain that Vinnie wasn't going to step on his feet he guided him through the quarter turns until they'd made a full revolution. Then, with some regret, he stopped.

"Well, there you have it. All the movements of the valse russe. You're up to speed for Paris in 1850."

"It's not a dance without music," Vinnie objected. "I'm gonna find some tunes." He picked up his tablet off the desk. Balthazar was about to suggest Schubert's Waltz in B minor when the tablet burst into sound. A vapid, mindless melody that filled his ears with lukewarm treacle.

" _I know you're pining, But every cloud has got A silver lining --_ "

"That is _not_ a waltz. Turn it off!"

Vinnie tapped the screen several times to no effect. "It's hung up. Catchy song, though. _My heart is strong, Like a tree, And you belong, Baby, you belong to me -_ -" He gasped. "It's got me! Beat -- taking over -- gotta -- bust a move!"

He dropped the tablet on the floor and began to shimmy. Balthazar rolled his eyes. Trust Vinnie to find entertainment potential in the most jejune drivel. Admittedly it was a pleasure to see him dancing, lost in the moment and the awful music. He looked good because, somehow, he didn't care how he looked. And because of that tight T-shirt.

Vinnie spun around and reached for him. "C'mon, join me!"

" _Chop, chop, chop, chop away at my heart --_ "

Balthazar surprised them both by complying. Jamming wasn't his thing really, but he'd give it a go. Because they were partners. And because of that tight T-shirt.

"That's it! Go Balthy!"

Yes, well. He took a few waltz steps, since that was the only dance he knew. Vinnie was doing pelvic thrusts. The chorus plumbed the depths of creative bankruptcy with " _Nanananananananananana_ ".

"What's the plan?" Balthazar asked, almost shouting to drown out the sound.

"Anything!" Vinnie called helpfully and did a high kick. "Just go with the flow!"

Balthazar had to swerve away from the kick. That gave him an idea. He started to perform basic kata in time with the music. Vinnie soon caught on and blocked his pretend strikes with dramatic gestures. Balthazar got him in an overhook, to which he responded cleverly with a bear hug. They lurched around in circles, neither of them trying to break free.

" _The sun is shining, And you're in my arms, So the planets are aligning --_ "

The song was looping. Balthazar didn't care. He rested his chin on top of Vinnie's head and hung on.

Something crunched under his foot. The music stopped. They pulled apart, rather dizzy by now, and looked in silence at the breakage on the floor.

"Well, that's one way to boot a tablet," Vinnie said philosophically. "Get it? _Boot_ it, 'cause you're wearing shoes? On your feet?"

"I get it!" Balthazar mopped his hot face with a handkerchief, wishing he could reach into his brain and erase the echoes of that horrid song. Na nanana nananana -- good heavens, was he humming aloud?

Vinnie ran his fingers teasingly up the back of Balthazar's neck. "Someone's got an earworm."

"And whose fault is that?" Balthazar demanded. "The next time we dance together _I'll_ choose the music, thank you very much."

"Fine," Vinnie said, "but I get to pick the venue."

"The what?"

Vinnie grinned at him. "I think we're ready to go public."


End file.
